


Hidden In the Leaves

by YamatosSenpai



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-16 07:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1337896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YamatosSenpai/pseuds/YamatosSenpai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A YAOI/BL story about the relationship between Hashirama Senju and Madara Uchiha as teenagers before the formation of the Hidden Leaf Village. Rated T for Sensuality, Course Language, and Mild Thematic Events</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden In the Leaves

Hashirama Senju dropped to his knees with a groan, his kunai falling forgotten from his hand. His shoulder throbbed where he had been struck, but it was a far cry from a fatal wound. “Nii-san.”  
“Hashirama.” Tobirama growled, forcing his shuriken back into its holder. “Where are you headed so late at night? It wasn’t a mission, was it?”  
Hashirama sighed, tenderly touching the wound on his shoulder, staining his fingertips with his own blood. “Tobirama, you’ve improved. I couldn’t dodge all nine this time.”  
“I’m nothing compared to you, older brother.” Tobirama breathed, kneeling down next to Hashirama with a scornful look. “You’d think the pride of the Senju would stop endangering himself for selfish reasons…”  
“Endangering myself? Aren’t you the one who drew blood?” Hashirama asked with an awkward laugh, tugging playfully at his brother’s silver hair.   
“I know where you’re going, Hashi-chan.” Tobirama grumbled in agitation. “Don’t lie!”  
“Tobi-chan, this has nothing to do with you. I’m sixteen years old, now.” Hashirama huffed.   
“If anyone ever finds you… if anyone ever finds out…” Tobirama warned. “I mean I know!”  
“Yeah, you know. And I know you’d never betray me…” Hashirama whispered, brushing his hand over Tobirama’s cheek gently.  
“I will never betray the Senju.” Tobirama corrected matter-of-factly. “You are just my sentimental and overly optimistic older brother.”  
“And you are my judgemental but extremely loyal little brother.” Hashirama said with a hearty laugh.  
“You are weird.” Tobirama grunted, his head snapping up in attention as a bird call sounded in the distance. Hashirama and Tobirama shared a knowing look and in an instant both sprang into action. Tobirama threw his kunai seconds before being enveloped by a stream of binding wood. Tobirama cursed loudly as his brother flashed him an apologetic smile.  
“I’m sorry, Tobi-chan,” Hashirama called over his shoulder. “I’ll be back by morning.”  
Hashirama ran through the woods quickly and silently, his heart hammering in his chest. How many other Senju’s had heard it? It was entirely his fault; he was late since Tobirama had delayed him. He made the answering call and waited, expectantly. Another call sounded and his feet sped up of their own accord. He trudged through the river without hesitation, at least that would throw off the ninja dogs for a while.   
“Senju, you’re late.” Madara Uchiha whispered, jumping down from the rocky ledge above gracefully. He tossed his long, black hair back out of his eyes and smirked. “I almost left.”  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Hashirama spoke quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I got a bit caught up in something.”  
“You’re bleeding.” Madara exhaled heavily before spinning Hashirama around to examine the wound. “Shuriken.”  
“It’s nothing… really… honest…” Hashirama explained, shrugging his shoulder free of Madara’s firm grip. “I was just-”  
“A bit too slow? Too distracted? What?” Madara snarled, his pale features twisting with his agitation. “You are the greatest shinobi alive and-”  
“What?” Hashirama asked with a grin, his head snapping up to attention. “What did you just say, Ma-da-ra?”  
“Silence.” Madara barked, a pink blush staining his cheeks. “Obviously, I misspoke. You are the greatest Senju alive.”  
“Yeah?” Hashirama teased, tugging on a strand of Madara’s long black hair. “You are just too… sweet, aren’t ya Ma-da-ra?”  
“You’re being overly familiar, aren’t you, Senju?” Madara chastised, knocking Hashirama’s hand down from his hair.   
“Oh, come on, neither of us should even be whispering our family names, ya know?” Hashirama breathed anxiously, suddenly struck by the bone crushing weight of fear. If anyone found them, anyone, at least one of them would be dead. “Madara, we can’t get careless.”  
“OH?” Madara nearly shouted. “That’s what I was saying! You’re the one bleeding, Hashirama!” Madara paced back and forth anxiously, his hair cascading over his face for dramatic effect. “I swear to God, Hashirama! You are still the same! The same … child! You are sixteen years old now! That’s middle aged in ninja years! You’re a… a…. a … man-child!”  
“A man-child?” Hashirama asked, fighting the urge to laugh out loud. Air escaped his lips nosily and he couldn’t stop the eruption of laughter. “Oh, Madara. That’s funny. You’re funny.”  
“Uchiha’s are NOT funny!” Madara muttered defensively.   
“Yeah, well, you’re funny.” Hashirama spoke quietly, suddenly sober. He reached out for Madara’s hands, taking them in his and stroking gently. “And beautiful.”  
“Oh, shut up.” Madara growled, trying to pull his hands free from Hashirama’s. Hashirama smiled, wood erupting from his palm, binding their hands and wrists together. Hashirama pulled Madara closer, and as Madara’s blush deepened, he laughed softly. “We’re too close, Hashirama…”  
“Probably, but it’s too late now,” Hashirama admitted, his own cheeks a burning scarlet. He released his wood style bind and wrapped his hands around Madara’s slender but muscled waist. My hands fit here perfectly, he thought. Hashirama gasped in surprise as Madara wrapped his own arms around him, his hands trailing over his hips and down over his backside, where they came to rest. Hashirama smiled, letting his head come to rest on Madara’s shoulder. “This is nice.”  
“You should kiss me.” Madara whispered, so softly that Hashirama could’ve imagined it.  
“Should I?” Hashirama breathed.  
“I mean, well, you can kiss me, if you want.” Madara mumbled, his foot kicking at the dirt beneath his boots awkwardly. Hashirama grinned, a rather goofy grin in Madara’s opinion. What do I see in this fool? he thought.  
“I want.” Hashirama murmured, brushing his lips against Madara’s. He bit down softly on Madara’s bottom lip before pulling it into his mouth, sucking softly as they kissed. It felt amazing, all the way down to there.  
It had been awkward the first time they kissed. It was before their latest growth spurt, and both were lanky in all the wrong ways. Hashirama and Madara had been wrestling, something they used to do all the time before their bodies changed. Madara’s body had changed first, his hair grew in weird places, his voice got lower, and his legs! They shot right up, leaving Hashirama behind for a few months. Hashirama didn’t understand why Madara got mad when he pressed into him. He didn’t understand why Madara pushed him off and pulled his loose shirt over his knees. And he really didn’t understand why Madara yelled at him when he tried to see.   
Hashirama couldn’t understand yet. Madara was upset and brooding, and covering his body in apparent disgust, so he did something he saw his Father do to his Mother when she acted moody. He crawled on his hands and knees, between Madara’s legs and kissed him. It had felt so good to Hashirama, nothing but pure bliss. He wasn’t expecting Madara’s punch, connecting roughly with his jaw, sending him somersaulting backward. But, of course, he knew better now.  
“Why’re you smiling like a fool?” Madara questioned, his dark eyes glittering in the moonlight.  
“You.” Hashirama sighed, not bothering to cover up his wide grin any longer. “I was just recalling our first kiss.”  
“Oh,” Madara snapped irritably. “That shouldn’t even count. You shouldn’t even bother to remember that. ”  
“Well, maybe our other firsts will make me forget…” Hashirama teased, pressing his groin against Madara’s.  
“You must have a high fever, Hashirama,” Madara growled, his eyes locking onto Hashirama’s threateningly. “There is nothing beyond this point.”  
“You’ll give in to me,” Hashirama vowed, brushing a strand of dark brown hair from his face. “I swear, you’ll be mine.”  
“You are such an idiot!” Madara exclaimed, balling his fists up in aggravation. “You don’t get it. Our dream is just a dream! It can never exist beyond right here, in this space.”  
“It’s not just a dream,” Hashirama said, grabbing Madara’s hand and placing it on his chest. “It’s real, it’s right in here. Can’t you feel it?”  
“I feel nothing.” Madara choked out, his eyes searching Hashirama’s face in desperation. “What if I feel nothing?”  
“Then I’ll make you feel it.” Hashirama barked, his dark eyes piercing into Madara grievously. “Even if you have no hope left, I will be your hope. When you feel nothing, I will feel it enough for both of us…”  
“Feelings will break you,” Madara groaned.   
“Life will break you.” Hashirama cried out. “Feelings make life bearable.”  
“What do you want from me, Hashirama? Why do we do this?” Madara exhaled quickly, pushing Hashirama away from him.  
“I want everything!” Hashirama shouted, the vein on his forehead throbbing. “We do this because we love eachother!”  
“Love?” Madara laughed humorlessly. “How can it be love if it’s not allowed?”  
“Allowed by whom?” Hashirama questioned exacerbated.   
“Man and Nature. We can’t bear offspring, can we?” Madara growled, crossing his arms over his chest.  
“Man and Nature killed two of my three little brothers,” Hashirama whispered. “Man and Nature killed three of your four brothers! Does that mean we didn’t love them enough? Or maybe that we never loved them at all…?”  
“Now you’re being mean.” Madara tugged on a strand of his hair absently, his eyes downcast.  
“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t have feelings then, huh?” Hashirama shouted.  
“Hashirama, I-” Madara’s voice floundered as a twig snapped behind him. He pulled a kunai from his waist band and jumped up onto the tree branch above his head.   
“Madara, you should run,” Hashirama whispered, crouching low to the ground. “This is Senju territory.”  
“You wish,” Madara laughed softly. “This is clearly Uchiha ground.” They shared a stubborn look, each standing their ground. Madara sighed, gripping onto his kunai so tightly it hurt his hand. The next few seconds meant everything. No matter what, someone was about to die, but who?  
Madara cried out as a hand grabbed hold of his ankle, yanking him from the tree by force. He landed on the ground, rolling to his feet in the next instant, his kunai flying through the air. It struck the tree beside the large shinobi in front of him, a shinobi of the Hagoromo Clan, friends of the Uchiha. Madara sighed in relief, flashing the Uchiha crest on his arm band. “It’s only you, Hagoromo-san.”  
“Uchiha-kun,” The broad shouldered shinobi spoke gruffly, spinning Madara around dizzyingly to inspect him for wounds. “We were searching for a group of traitors this way, but I lost the party after being separated. Have you heard anything?”  
“We?” Madara asked nervously, his eyes drifting to the spot where Hashirama was hidden moments before. “How many of you were there?”  
“Thirty of us Hagoromo’s and a dozen Uchiha’s,” The shinobi answered, peering into the darkness where Madara was looking intently.   
“Were Tajima or Izuna in the party?” Madara asked in a sudden panic. If his father or brother were to find him here, there would be Hell to pay later.  
“Uchiha-kun, this place is dangerous. What are you doing out here alone? This is neutral territory; anyone could walk up behind you and slit your pretty little throat.” The shinobi warned, pressing his side against Madara’s. “And as for you old man and little brother, no, they weren’t with us.”  
“Well, I should probably get back home then, huh?” Madara mumbled, stepping to the side to regain some personal space. “Thank you for the information, Hagoromo-san. I will be careful on my way back.”  
“Say, Uchiha-kun, what’s your name?” The adult shinobi asked before spitting into the grass by Madara’s feet.  
“Madara,” Madara answered, his black eyes glistening hazardously as he engaged his sharingans. “And you are?”  
“Naka, son of Mu the Earth Style User.” The Hagoromo shinobi answered proudly. “Madara, Ma-da-ra… sounds familiar…”  
“Does it?” Madara asked impatiently, swinging his kunai around in his hand absently.  
“Yeah, I think that’s the name of the Uchiha kid we’re looking for…” Naka replied, a menacing grin sending chills down Madara’s spine.   
“That’s ridiculous!” Madara snapped defensively. “I’m not a filthy traitor! My father is the head of the Clan!”  
“They said you might need an extra lesson or two, to help you regain your senses…” Naka taunted with a laugh, cracking his knuckles as a dozen other forms began to emerge from the forest, surrounding Madara.   
“Why?” Madara snarled, locking eyes with another Uchiha.  
“One word,” Naka answered, pulling a shuriken free of its pouch. “Hashirama.”  
“Hashirama?” Madara managed to choke out. He shivered, chilled to the bone, and shrank back, feeling so small.  
“Are you afraid to die, Uchiha-kun? We’ll make it fast, no fear…” Naka breathed, closing in on Madara with a tight smile.  
“I… I… I,” Madara stammered before suddenly smiling, a malicious grin twisting his handsome face. His eyes burned brightly in the starlight and, with his dark hair framing his face, he truly was Death’s visage itself. “I’m just kidding…”  
“What?”  
“KATON!” Madara shouted, weaving the tiger hand sign swiftly. “Dragon Flame Release Song.”  
“What the hell is that?!?!” Naka screamed out, watching as Madara manipulated several enormous balls of fire, shaped like the heads of dragons.  
“It’s my own little jutsu.” Madara explained, sending several shinobi flying through the air. “Not too bad, huh?”  
“You’re like a devil!” Naka yelled, weaving his own hand signs desperately. Madara blocked Naka’s justu easily, sending another barrage of flaming dragons at Naka, knocking him backward and into the tree behind him roughly.  
“No,” Madara spoke simply, smiling down at Naka as he cowered beneath his feet. “I am the devil.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“It took me two hours to cut myself out of that, asshole.” Tobirama glowered, stirring his breakfast porridge glumly.   
“Sorry, Tobi-chan,” Hashirama chuckled. “I can’t control the hardness…”  
“Uh, that just sounds…” Tobirama said frowning, pushing his bowl away from him in total defeat.  
“AHAHA!” Hashirama burst into laughter, wiping tears from his eyes. “You are so funny!”   
“Senju’s aren’t funny. You’re just easy to make laugh.” Tobirama exhaled slowly, fighting the urge to laugh along with his brother. Hashirama was an idiot, but he always had fun, and it could be contagious if you weren’t careful. “You ended it right?”  
“Huh?” Hashirama asked, sobering up immediately.   
“You ended it right?” Tobirama repeated gruffly.  
“Yeah, of course,” Hashirama lied quickly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose.  
“Good, because he is our enemy and I will kill him, without hesitation.” Tobirama spoke heatedly, smacking his hand on the table. “I’ll kill them all.”  
“Kill who?” Butsuma Senju barked, sitting down at the table with a thud before scraping the chair legs nosily. Hashirama and Tobirama shared a look before shrugging, doing their best to evade their father. “Now, now, normally I can’t get you to shut up, Hashirama. What’s up?”  
“Tobirama was the one talking,” Hashirama muttered, suddenly losing his own appetite.  
“Nothing to be ashamed of,” Tobirama reasoned before continuing. “I said I would kill all of those damn Uchiha’s.”  
“Good,” Butsuma replied, ruffling his hand through his youngest son’s silvery hair. “It would be an insult to your brothers, Kawarama and Itama, if you didn’t.”  
“The Uchiha’s have brothers too, Father.” Hashirama retorted, turning to look his father in the eye. In an instant Butsuma was on top of him, his fists beating down on his head and back, pressing his face into the spilled porridge. Hashirama cried out, reaching up to disentangle his father’s hand from his hair. Butsuma pulled Hashirama’s hair even tighter, pushing him into the table as brutally as he could manage. He could feel his father’s warmth, pressing against him, he could feel his father’s body reacting to their closeness and he closed his eyes, resigned.  
“Father,” Tobirama spoke up hesitantly.  
“Fuck off, breakfast is over.” Butsuma breathed, his black eyes meeting his youngest son’s.  
“Father,” Tobirama repeated.  
“Get going, Tobi-chan,” Hashirama whispered, afraid that his shaking voice would betray him.   
“Don’t be fucking stupid, Hashi-chan,” Tobirama breathed, flashing a sad smile. Suddenly he began to weave hand signs, “Genjutsu: Bringer of Darkness Technique!” The entire room was thrown into pitch black chaos. Hashirama could still hear, feel, and smell but nothing remained of his eyesight. He gasped as he was tugged violently out from under his father’s imposing weight. He smacked roughly into the chair, blindly tripping as Tobirama pulled him from the house at a full out run. “It’s just genjutsu, dumbass! Release yourself!”  
They ran until they reached the river, both too afraid of their father to stop. Out of breath, they collapsed on the ground, next to each other, holding their sides. “He’s going to get us back, sooner or later,” Hashirama sighed.  
“No.” Tobirama spoke firmly, throwing his hands under his head and staring up at the sky. “He’s never touching us again.”  
“Yeah,” Hashirama exhaled softly, watching the clouds dreamily.  
“You know,” Tobirama began quietly. “You’re stronger than him; you have been for a while now. You shouldn’t let him knock you around.”  
“Yeah,” Hashirama agreed thoughfully, reaching for his brother’s hand and squeezing gently. “If I ever have kids, I’ll be nothing like him…”  
“I’m never having kids.” Tobirama shuddered, squeezing his brother’s hand in return, even though it embarrassed him to do so.   
“You don’t know that!” Hashirama laughed. “You are such an old man in a young boy’s body.”  
“I’m not a boy anymore, young or otherwise,” Tobirama replied defensively. “I’m fourteen, hadn’t ya noticed? I’ve been 16 months younger than you our whole lives.”  
“Okay, okay. I’m sorry,” Hashirama chuckled lightheartedly.   
“Why would anyone want to have children in a world like this, anyway?” Tobirama asked suddenly serious.  
“Our world won’t be like this forever, things will change, you’ll see.” Hashirama assured him with a smile. “I’m gonna change it.”  
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..  
“Kiss me,” Madara called out melodiously, hanging upside down from a tree branch, his hair swishing in the wind playfully. “If you can catch me…”  
“Oh, you’re playing games?” Hashirama asked, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. He reached out for Madara, but grasped the empty air instead. He searched the trees quickly before running up the thick trunk.   
“That’s cheating!” Madara chastised, swinging off a branch onto another tree.  
“It’s not cheating, it’s chakra control.” Hashirama defended with a wide grin. He frowned as Madara seemed to vanish, but the next moment he was smiling again.  
“Did ya give up on me, yet?” Madara called out, carefully testing a branch before stepping onto it. He could see Hashirama, facing the other direction, this was the perfect opportunity to- “AHHHHHHHHHHH!” Madara cried out as the branch underfoot began to twist over his body, binding him completely before setting him down gently on the ground, and at Hashirama’s feet no less. Madara looked up at Hashirama with a scowl. “Now, that is cheating!”  
Hashirama only smiled as Madara broke free of his bonds, offering him his hand in apology. He pulled Madara to his feet, wrapping his hands around Madara’s neck and kissing him deeply. Madara attempted to step back but Hashirama held him tightly in place, kissing him until Madara was kissing him back, wrapping his arms around Hashirama’s waist.  
Madara’s knees buckled as Hashirama’s tongue lightly licked along his jaw to his ear. Hashirama backed Madara into the tree trunk, where to his immense pleasure; Madara wrapped his legs around his waist. Hashirama moaned loudly, it was embarrassing but he couldn’t help it. Madara smiled sweetly, before pulling Hashirama’s hand into his, and bringing it to his lips. “Too bad we’re outside… no beds anywhere…”  
“Beds? Beds! Oh!” Hashirama nearly shouted as the realization hit him. He smiled, nudging Madara’s shoulder playfully. “You’ll never be out in the cold when your lover’s a wood style…”  
Madara rolled his eyes, laughing softly as Hashirama disconnected their bodies. He weaved hand signs, silently, smiling as a beautiful wooden swing was constructed right before their eyes. It was delicate in design, with sturdy wood, and notably enough room for them both to lie down. Hashirama clicked his tongue as he worked, sending the swing up into the canopy of trees, securing it in place with appropriately placed bindings. “Shall we go admire my handiwork?”  
“Hmmm,” Madara mused. “I get the feeling you’ve been planning this…”  
“For months.” Hashirama admitted with a smile.  
“Lie about it! Creep!” Madara shouted reproachfully. “Honesty isn’t always proper!”  
“Hahaha,” Hashirama laughed happily. “I love this. I love feeling like this. I love you…”  
Madara’s head snapped up in astonishment, his eyes as wide as saucers. “Say it again.”  
“Huh?” Hashirama asked in confusion.  
“Say it again,” Madara whispered, his lips brushing against Hashirama’s ear.  
“I love you, Madara Uchiha.”  
“I love you, Hashirama Senju,” Madara breathed leading him up to the swing above slowly. “I have always loved you and I always will. Even in death, you will be mine and I will be yours…”  
………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………  
“It’s beautiful,” Hashirama breathed, planting a kiss on Madara’s bare shoulder. They laid, entwined, on the swing. The night was long gone and they watched together as the first light of day shone on the valley below.   
“Yeah,” Madara agreed, combing his fingers through Hashirama’s long brown hair. “I never want to leave.”  
“I’m sure our families think we’re dead by now.” Hashirama laughed nervously.  
“Maybe we are?” Madara thought aloud. “I am ridiculously happy.”  
“Don’t talk like that! Such a downer!” Hashirama teased.  
“We’re going to be watched even closer after this. You know that right?” Madara questioned, his dark eyes locked onto Hashirama’s.  
“I love you, and no one can keep us apart, not for long.” Hashirama avowed. “We will always have each other and our little place hidden in the leaves.”  
“Our little place hidden in the leaves?” Madara repeated with a smile. “I like that, I like that a lot.”  
THE END


End file.
